


Homefront

by Red_Tigress



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Captivity, Gen, Home Invasion, Mild Language, No Spoilers, Whump, badassery, death to henchmen, ninja Bruce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-07
Updated: 2012-05-07
Packaged: 2017-11-05 00:37:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/399958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Tigress/pseuds/Red_Tigress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A silent, unexpected raid where the team feels safest. Can they survive the attack on Avengers Mansion?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this about two months ago, so it takes place in the mansion from the comic/cartoon. Again sorry for discrepancies!

Clint came out of a deep sleep, sitting straight up in his bed. He didn’t know what had woken him, but he knew something was wrong immediately. After years of field work, he always knew.

He glanced at the window in his room sharply, noting the absence of moonlight…or any kind of light. The outside lights should have been on at this hour. His feeling of intense unease grew, and he silently slipped out of bed, his bare feet making no noise as he moved over to his closet, grabbing his bow and quiver. He strapped on the quiver over his t-shirt, the weight of it on his back comforting as he slipped on the arm guard and finger glove he always kept attached.

He took an arrow from the quiver, loading it onto his bow and lightly touching his fingers against the fletchings as he moved his back against the wall with the door to his bedroom in it. Listening, he heard nothing.

He waited.

Silently, the door opened little by little. That wasn’t right. He’d been meaning to WD-40 the hinges for ages, they were loud as hell.

Usually.

The toe of a combat boot lightly stepped through the doorway, followed by its owner, a masked man in full camo.

Clint didn’t wait for an introduction.

He held his bow up, releasing the arrow point blank into the guy’s neck.

The man dropped the knife he had been holding, blood gurgling out of the new hole in his throat around the arrow shaft. He made a sputtering sound, but fell to the ground, silent.

Clint whirled around the body into the hallway, bow already at full draw with a new arrow knocked. He turned both directions, but saw no one else.

“Jarvis, Code Red,” he said quietly, trying to activate the defense system.

There was no answer from the A.I.

“Jarvis?” he whispered.

Still nothing. Whoever was here had infiltrated and downed Tony’s A.I. and alert systems before any sort of warning was triggered.

Whoever was here knew what they were doing.

He moved across the hall to Natasha’s room, turning the knob quietly. The door slowly swung inwards, and he stood off to the side. But after a moment, no attack seemed to be forthcoming from either an enemy or an angry Natasha, so he peered inside.

Another dead body in camo gear was sprawled over the windowsill. Natasha was nowhere in sight.

He moved over to the window, looking down. Still no sign of her. He pulled his head back inside, determined to find the others.

**_AV~AV~AV~AV_ **

Natasha had only had time to slip on her combat boots over her sweatpants and grab her gun before she noticed two more guys under her windowsill, no doubt waiting for their hapless friend. His fault he was so loud.

She wished she had had time to wake up Clint, she thought, as she jumped from her second story window onto the men outside. She heard and felt bones crunch under her and screams of pain muffled by their masks. She jumped up quickly, shooting one in the head and aiming her gun at the other one. “Who are you, and how did you get in?” she growled. He didn’t answer, only continued to breathe harshly under his mask.

She shot him in the knee cap, then moved the gun back to aim at his face. He screamed again, and she leaned down close to hiss in his ear;

“I’m only going to ask one more time.”

His eyes flicked to something behind her, and she quickly tried to stand up, but mid-turn something heavy, probably the butt of a rifle, hit her in the back of the head and she fell to the ground trying to blink the spots out of her vision.

“Black Widow,” a voice mused. She brought her gun up in the direction of the sound but it was kicked out of her hand before she could fire, before a boot savagely stomped her wrist into the ground. “You’ve killed too many of my men already.” A gunshot went off, making her wince, and the groaning of the man she had tried to interrogate stopped immediately. She cursed in Russian and tried to pull away from the man, but the rifle struck her again and all she knew was black.

**_AV~AV~AV~AV_ **

Thor was awoken by heavy weights on his arms and a sharp prick in the back of his neck. His eyes snapped open, enraged at seeing the strange men in his room and he shot up, roaring. He threw one into the wall as the other tried to lock his arm behind him, but he twisted around and punched him in the head with his now free hand, dropping him instantly.

He leapt to his feet, about to call for Mjölner, when his vision shifted. The bodies of the men disappeared and he heard footsteps from the hallway. His door frame shattered, and the huge fist of a frost giant came into view, followed by the rest of his body. He was grinning down at Thor. The Asgardian grit his teeth and summoned Mjölner into his hand.

“I know not why you have come here, but it was a mistake.” He threw his hammer, knocking the frost giant back through the hallway, and following up with  a savage roar.

**_AV~AV~AV~AV_ **

The three men looked at the unconscious Asgardian on the floor before one reached up to his comm. “Thor down,” he confirmed. He had been afraid the microchip wouldn’t work in the god, but was glad to see their source had been right.

A voice came back over the comm. “Hurry and find the others.”

**_AV~AV~AV~AV_ **

Bruce hadn’t been sleeping. He had been in the kitchen, reading some studies on his laptop and drinking tea when the lights had gone off. “Jarvis?” he asked, but no response was forthcoming. He was on alert immediately. He noticed that even though his laptop was still on, the wireless had been shut off. He also knew that the main systems of the house, i.e. Jarvis, were programmed to switch to an external generator whenever there was a power shift detected. The fact that Jarvis was not online was worrisome.

 He closed the laptop quietly before bringing his tea to the sink and dumping it out. He quickly walked out of the kitchen and down the hall to the bathroom, where he shut the door and pulled out his cellphone. He sighed when he looked at the screen. No signal.

He stilled as he heard the hardwood floor creak outside the bathroom. He held his breath, but the creaks moved further down the hall. That certainly confirmed it. Clint and Natasha unconsciously made no noise when they walked, while Thor and Tony pretty much made as much noise as they could whenever they went anywhere. Steve always walked fast, even at night.

He opened the door a crack, seeing two armed men in camo slowly moving down the hallway away from him in the direction of the labs. He may have been able to get some sort of external signal down there, but if they were going, that was out. He eyed the small window in the bathroom warily. He might be able to move freely around the outside of the mansion, or find someone else who had evaded capture, or get off the grounds completely and call Fury. Deciding that was his best bet, he moved towards the window.

**_AV~AV~AV~AV_ **

Tony was awakened roughly by hands grabbing him viciously and pulling him out of his bed and onto the floor. It made his skin crawl. He hated being touched, unless it was during sex, and he certainly hoped this was not one of those times, judging by the full military gear the assailants were wearing.

“JARVIS!” he shouted, but nothing happened and he cursed, kicking out with one of his legs and being rewarded with a grunt of pain and one less pair of hands touching him.

“Get off, fuckfaces!” he shouted again, trying to kick someone again and missing. He began twisting and writhing viciously. He would _not_ be captured again, not ever. He opened his mouth to holler for help, but someone shoved a damp cloth over his mouth and nose, making him instantly hold his breath. A savage punch to the gut had him bending over in pain and unconsciously sucking in air, along with the chloroform fumes.

Steve’s eyes snapped open when he heard the door to his room open. Half expecting it to be Tony trying to steal something in the middle of the night, he lazily rolled over, but sat up, frantic at the sight of the armed men in his doorway. He leapt out of bed, automatically looking for his shield before remembering it was in their make-shift armory in Tony’s garage. Growling in frustration, he punched the first guy in the face, knocking him back into the second guy, creating a bottleneck in the doorway. But the first assailant recovered quickly, swinging a heavy baton which Steve dodged quickly, moving backwards into the room. But it had the desired effect, and the four assailants poured in after him, trying to flank him.

Two came at him at once, and he blocked one with his arms, turning his back to the other. He grunted loudly when he was rewarded by the second guy unleashing the baton on the back of his shoulders. He quickly dropped and rolled away, but his room was only so large and he didn’t get far before he had to block a down-swinging baton with his forearm. It hurt like hell, but luckily the bone didn’t break. It did however, leave him wide-open to the second and third guys who wrenched both his arms behind him forcing him to the ground. He tried to roll, but one of the others was there, slipping what felt like an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth. The hard plastic of a zip tie was tightened over his wrists behind his back, binding him, and he furiously tried to kick with his legs and jostle the guys off him with his shoulders, but another baton to the back of his thigh had him suck in a breath, and thus whatever was pumping through the mask.

His brain instantly felt foggy and it was a struggle to move his limbs. He sank limply to the floor, groaning. Two of the guys hauled him up by the shoulders, flipping him onto his backside before dragging him out of his room. He watched with half-lidded eyes as one carried the tank hooked up to his mask next to him. They dragged him down the hall, a feat made easier by his cotton pajama bottoms against the hardwood floors and to the front of the elevator.

“I need power to elevator one,” a voice said from above him.

Something dinged and he found himself being tossed unceremoniously inside. He grunted softly as he hit the ground, but couldn’t really feel it that much through the numbness of his body. The elevator dinged again, and the men pulled him into Tony’s lab where about ten other men were standing around. In the middle was a masked man, but his mask was a dark shade of purple with only his eyes showing. Tony was bound at his feet, looking almost as groggy as Steve felt.

The man in the mask spoke to the guy who seemed to be in charge of the group that brought Steve down. “The others?” he asked. He had a slight accent, but Steve couldn’t quite place it.

“There’s a group guarding Thor and Widow. It seemed unwise to move them, as she sustained a head injury and he is just…big. But he’s not going anywhere.”

“Kill the woman later. We have no need of her. The Asgardian will probably die on his own.” The other man nodded and Steve’s heart clenched despite the gas running through his system. “The others?” the man pressed.

Here, the second-in-command hesitated. “There’s…been no trace of either Barton or Banner, Sir.”

“WHAT?” The other man flinched.  “Find them. Kill Barton on sight. Subdue the Hulk. We need him alive. We cannot afford to let either one of them run around and disrupt our plans.”

“What plans would those be?” Tony’s groggy voice spoke up, and both the masked man and the other one looked down at him. _Tony, shut up_ , Steve thought, unable to really do anything else. Luckily, they ignored him, looking at each other, before the masked man spoke.

“ _Now_ , Commander. I do not like to be kept waiting.”


	2. Chapter 2

Clint crouched behind the pool table in one of the many spare rooms as he listened to the two guys mumble under their breaths in the hall.

“Orders are kill Barton on sight, subdue Banner.” At least Bruce had escaped, but he wasn’t sure if that was a bad thing or a good thing. His ears strained, trying to hear any more information about his other missing teammates. Apart from Natasha’s room, he hadn’t had time to go to any of the others’ because they were too far away, and the halls were swimming with mercenaries. He had had to retreat to the next lowest floor, mostly unused rooms apart from the kitchen. But he supposed if they were looking for two people, one of whom was the Hulk, he shouldn’t be surprised at the numbers.

The other guy laughed. “Try to subdue Banner? Good fucking luck with that one. What happened to the Hulk team?”

“He wasn’t in his room. They think he stayed as Banner when he figured out what was going on so he could move around easier.”

 _Way to go, Bruce,_ he thought.

“Fuck. And they want to take this guy alive?”

“Him, Rogers and Stark.”

Clint grit his teeth. That meant the rest of them were deemed invaluable enough to kill. He wasn’t surprised he himself was number one on the hit list. But he’d been underestimated before. Many times.

But he always came out on top.

However, his heart swelled with worry for Natasha and Thor. He wasn’t sure how they had managed to take out the big guy, but it must have been something pretty hefty.

Neither his teammates nor the guy running the show seemed to be on this floor, so he had to draw the conclusion they were in the science labs, or Tony’s lab. It made sense. From there they could access the building’s systems. He needed to move.

He peeked out from behind the side of the pool table, and was relieved to see two backs facing him. He shifted a little, trying to see out the door and down the hall to determine if reinforcements would be arriving soon. None seemed forthcoming.

He stood up, silent except for the twang of the bow string as the arrow left it, embedding itself into the guy on the left’s head. As he was falling to the ground, Clint hopped over the pool table, covered the second guy’s mouth with his hand, and stabbed him in the throat with another arrow before he could even comprehend what had happened.

The man’s scream was muffled, and Clint continued holding onto him as he too, fell.

He took a moment to drag the dead men out of sight, his bare feet tracking through the blood that had not only soaked the floor, but his t-shirt and pajamas as well. As soon as they were behind the table, he scraped his feet over one of Tony’s fine Persian rugs, mentally apologizing to the man before realizing he probably wouldn’t even notice.

He peered out into the hallway again, but no one was there. Quietly he raced over to a grate covering an air duct in the hallway floor, just big enough to squeeze through. He folded his bow and took off his quiver, pushing them in before him. As he squeezed himself inside, he was grateful he wasn’t wearing his armor for once.

**_AV~AV~AV~AV_ **

Once Banner had shimmied down the outside of the house to the ground, he silently padded his way over to the garage door. He wasn’t surprised to find it unlocked, but he carefully peered inside to make sure there weren’t any surprises. He didn’t see anyone, so he opened it quietly.

He had to go slowly, so as not to trip over a car or some toolbox Tony had left behind, but he made his way past the cars to the inconspicuous, plain door that served as their armory. As he looked around inside, he frowned at seeing Steve’s shield there. Feeling around in the dark, he smiled when he found what he was looking for. A heavy duty tazer. Ironic, considering what he had “under the hood”, so to speak, but it would do for his purposes.

He considered one of the nine millimeters on the wall, before deciding that someone would want it if he found them. He hurriedly slipped on a shoulder holster (ever the man of safety, when he could help it) and holstered the weapon. Its weight was unfamiliar and uncomfortable against his torso.

He moved back into the garage and was about to go back outside to find another way in when he heard voices. Quickly, he ducked back into the shadows as two men, one carrying an unconscious Natasha walked by. They dropped her on the lawn, causing her to groan. Bruce winced.

“I still don’t understand why you didn’t just shoot her inside,” one of the men said.

The other man shrugged, pulling out his pistol. “I dunno. It just didn’t feel right. She’s a woman, so you know…in the house it just feels like-”

“Wow, Mr. Morals, get over yourself. You’re not gonna live long thinking like that. Just get it over with.”

Neither of them noticed the man calmly walking up behind them on the grass.

Bruce hit the man with the gun in the neck with the tazer, and he collapsed to the ground, convulsing.

The other man turned to him with a shocked look on his face, before aiming a random swing at his face. Bruce calmly ducked before stabbing the tazer into his chest.

**_AV~AV~AV~AV_ **

Natasha was brought to with some gentle taps on her shoulder and someone calling her name. She shuddered from the aching pain in her skull. She tried to curl in on herself.

“Natasha, we have to move,” a quiet but firm voice said. She cracked her eyes open to find Bruce kneeling over her.

“Banner…what…” even thinking seemed to be a chore. She curled her fingers into the ground and distantly wondered what she was doing on Tony’s lawn. Had it been another vodka night?

A feeling much more sinister than a hangover pulled at her senses, and she sat up straight, looking around, but jammed her eyes shut against the sudden nausea as she almost toppled over from the sharp movement. Bruce steadied her, and she opened her eyes again, noting the two unconscious men on the ground. “You…you did this?” She asked.

“They were going to kill you,” he answered simply.

She automatically reached for her gun, whispering a curse when she remembered she was in her sweats and her only weapon had been confiscated. Bruce seemed to read her expression, and slipped a pistol into her hand. She clutched the grip appreciatively, before she turned around and shot both unconscious men in the head.

Bruce frowned, but said nothing.

“Liabilities,” she mumbled as she got to her knees. “Help me up.”

Bruce did so, steadying her again as she wavered on her feet.

“Why haven’t you…” she trailed off.

He shook his head in response. “They have the others. It’s too dangerous.”

Her eyes widened. “All of them?” she asked, disbelievingly.

He hesitated. “I’m…not sure.”

She peered around quickly, not liking how exposed they were. “Grab a body and move it into the bushes,” she said brusquely. She grabbed one of the guy’s legs, pulling him along on unsteady feet until she was satisfied he was covered. Bruce did as he was told, seemingly content with deferring to her in this situation, but she was pretty impressed that he managed to evade capture on his own _and_ not Hulk out.

She led him along the wall of the house towards the wing where Thor and Steve’s rooms were, although at a slower pace than she would have liked. She had to stop a few times to wait for the nausea and vertigo to stop, but soon she had located the spot under Thor’s room. “Boost me up,” she whispered. He bent his knees, clasping his hands together then lifted her as she jumped to get her hands on the second-story window.

She pulled herself up only an inch at a time first, peering through the cracked window into Thor’s room. He was on the floor, two men standing over him and facing the hallway. She lowered herself down again, dropping the last few feet to the ground, Bruce having to catch her as she swayed again unsteadily.

“I need you to boost me up again, then hold me there over your shoulders. Can you do that?” She took the gun out of the waist band of her pants, clicking off the safety.

He nodded, readying himself again. This time, he lifted her up by the legs, grunting as she pulled herself to the window and he lifted his arms over his head, holding her shoes. It felt unstable as hell, but she fired off two quick shots, catching both guards in the back, before lifting the window the rest of the way and crawling inside. She made sure the men were both dead first, before moving to Thor.

His pulse was fast and thready, his breathing labored, and he had soaked through his clothes with sweat. She cursed, noticing the small smear of blood on his neck, centered around a needle hole there. She angrily ripped a sheet off the bed, tying it around the bed post and throwing it out the window.

“Get up here,” she whispered. As Bruce climbed up, grunting, she continued to examine Thor. Other than the fact his body was behaving like he was running a marathon, she could discern nothing else wrong. Bruce pulled himself through the window, eyeing Thor warily.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” she said, but pointed to the needle hole. “A drug?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I doubt it. They don’t have any effect on his system. But…” he looked at the needle hole again, noting where it was on his neck, where his brain stem would be. “…nano-technology might. I’d need to do studies to be sure but-”

She cut him off. “No time. I trust you. How do we get rid of it?”

“We need an EMP. I know Tony has one in his lab-”

“Leave it to me. Do you think you can move him somewhere else? Steve’s room? They won’t look for him there.”

Bruce nodded. He was about to tell her to be careful, when a voice came over the intercom usually reserved for Jarvis.

**_AV~AV~AV~AV_ **

As the effects of the chloroform wore off, Tony was becoming more aware of his surroundings. He noticed Steve on the floor about twenty feet away from him, his hands tied behind his back and an oxygen mask strapped over his face. But from his slow breathing and half-lidded eyes, Tony doubted he was being given oxygen.

“What are you bastards pumping him full of?” he demanded of the men standing above him.

“Just a potent knockout gas, Mr. Stark. Unfortunately, because of his regenerative capabilities, it doesn’t have the full effect on him, and as you can see, the dosage needs to be constant to keep him complacent.”

Tony rolled onto his side before struggling to get his hands free. “You sick fucks!” He would have said more, but was silenced with a kick to the stomach by the guy in the purple mask before he sighed dramatically.

“Gag him, and find me my tazer. And bring the house intercom online. I’ve changed my mind about him.”

**_AV~AV~AV~AV_ **

Clint had moved down the shaft at a bit of a slower pace than he would have liked, but struggling to maneuver through the air duct wasn’t exactly a quiet endeavor, so he was probably better off. He pushed his bow and quiver in front of him before sliding forward.

An echoed sound from the hallway above him made him pause. It sounded like a crackle.

“Your attentions please, Agent Barton and Dr. Banner,” a deep voice sounded. Clint furrowed his brow. That must have meant Bruce had escaped capture as well, but…no one else? Not even Natasha? His heart sank.

He began to crawl forward again, but a sound over the intercom froze him in his tracks. It sounded like something electrical being charged up. “Your teammate has quite a mouth.” There was a dull thud, and then a muffled cry of pain. Clint closed his eyes in frustration. _Tony._

Clint began moving forward again. “I’ve decided he’s not really worth the hassle of trying to keep him around.” Another shock sound and another cry of pain. Clint picked up his pace. “And while this activity certainly has its merits,” a shock and a whimper of pain then. Clint’s jaw ached with the force of which he was clenching his teeth. “…I have a short attention span.” Another groan of pain.

Clint was shaking with rage by that point, moving so fast through the vent he didn’t care if someone heard him. He had to take a breath and force himself to calm down. He wouldn’t be able to help Tony if someone caught him crawling through the walls first. The next words, however, just made him crawl faster.

“Gentlemen, you have 10 minutes to surrender before Tony Stark dies.”


	3. Chapter 3

Natasha and Bruce looked at each other with fear. She spoke before he had a chance to. “You can’t turn yourself in.”

“But…Stark…”

She shook her head. “They can’t get their hands on you. You know that. They already have Steve, that’s bad enough. And they think that I’m dead and Thor is dying. And Clint’s loose. We have the upper hand right now. Let’s not waste it.”

He nodded as she got up and moved to the door, opening it a crack. Seeing no one, she ducked back inside, taking extra clips off the guys she’d killed. “Move him now. I’ll be back shortly.” She checked the hallway again, before leaving the room and running lightly down it.

**_AV~AV~AV~AV_ **

Steve tried to struggle as he saw Tony being shocked. His teammate was twitching on the floor, but it was like Steve just didn’t have the will or energy to move. A dull ache had taken over his body and the fog that was clouding his brain had only seemed to grow thicker. He couldn’t contemplate what was happening other than his friend was in danger and he could do nothing.

“How long?” the man in the purple mask asked.

Tony moaned from the floor.

“Four and a half minutes, Sir.”

**_AV~AV~AV~AV_ **

Clint had found the air duct that went over Tony’s lab. Luckily, it was bigger down here, considering the amount of oxygen Tony could burn from the random welding, smashing, and burning he often occupied himself with. Clint was able to strap his quiver back on, and moved over to look through a large grate.

A few feet ahead of him he could see the top of a man in a purple mask. Both his stance and clothes set him apart and Clint could only conclude he was the leader. There were several more guys standing around, but none close to the mask guy and what appeared to be his second in command. Tony was on the floor at his feet, breathing harshly through the gag tied over his mouth. More troublesome still was the fact that Steve was on the floor about twenty feet away, a mask hooked up to a tank strapped over his mouth and blinking sluggishly. Two more guys stood near him, one holding the tank.

Clint silently cursed. He could get Tony out for sure, but his distraction didn’t allow for enough time to reach Steve, too.

He would have to count on the fact that this guy wanted him alive.

He quietly moved the grate up and out of the way, allowing him full access to the lab below.

He drew an arrow from his quiver, but instead of having a sharp tip it had a small, heavy canister attached to the shaft. He pulled it in front of his face, flipping a switch to arm it. He counted to two, took a deep breath, and dropped it on the floor.

With a hissing noise, a dense smoke filled the room very fast, making everyone in it start coughing. He dropped down into it, his eyes watering as he moved forward three steps. In mid-stride, he leaned down and pulled Tony up, who was still coughing and groaning, and bolted for the door he knew was fourteen steps ahead and five steps to his left. As he reached it, gunfire erupted behind him and he pushed Tony in front of him as a streak of fire erupted in his left thigh. Grunting, he continued to push the still coughing Tony into the clear hallway.

He heard a scream from behind him. “KILL THEM!”

The good thing about being a billionaire was that you had money to make doors look like real walls just for aesthetics sake. Clint, of course, had explored them all when he first moved in, partly out of curiosity, partly out of the need to be intimately familiar with the place he slept. For pretty much this very reason.

He pushed a panel in the wall hidden from view of the hallway to the lab before pushing Tony in and shutting it behind him. He ripped the gag off Tony’s face and pulled him to his chest against the wall behind the door, listening. Tony let out a harsh cough, before he loudly said “Clint, what-”

Clint cut him off by slapping his hand over his mouth, causing Tony to flinch and try and twist away. Clint grimaced. He had done it without thinking, and he let go of the other man’s face. “Sorry, Tony, but just shut up for a second,” he whispered. Tony, amazingly, complied, body trembling slightly. They both stilled as they heard footsteps run by. Clint looked around, seeing a door to another room and moving Tony through it, convinced they were temporarily out of danger.

“Did you…come through the air duct?” Tony coughed, disbelievingly.

Clint allowed himself a small smile before letting go of Tony and ripping part of his pajamas to tie around the bullet wound in his thigh. Luckily it wasn’t deep, and the bullet had only grazed him. Still, it stung like a bitch, and he grunted as he tied it off.

“Wait…Clint…where’s Steve?”

Clint hesitated. “…I couldn’t get both of you out.”

“What? No!” Tony popped up and pushed him aside harshly, moving for the door. Clint grabbed him before he could get far and spun him around. Tony’s face had a wild fury that Clint had only seen a few times before.  “He’s more important than me, why didn’t you get him?!?” Tony demanded as he tried to shake Clint’s grip.

“Tony, calm down, just…Tony, STOP.” Clint demanded, trying to hold onto the twisting man. “He’s safe for now, that guy wants him and Banner alive. It’s the rest of us he wants dead. He was going to kill you.”

Tony stilled, looking at him angrily. “It doesn’t matter, Steve’s-”

Clint cut him off. “I know.”

 The leader. The mission. The symbol. _The_ _hope_.

Clint’s next words were softer. “Trust me, he’s okay for the moment. We have to regroup. Call for help. Banner’s still free, we still have a wild card if they don’t find him.”

“The others?” Tony asked.

“I…don’t know,” Clint admitted. Tony cursed.

“We have to get to an access panel outside. I can re-wire the hardware from the outside and download the security OS from the remote server,” Tony told him.

Clint nodded, as he heard more footsteps go by, tensing before the sound faded. He was surprised they hadn’t tried these sets of rooms yet. “They knew about everything else, how do they not know about these rooms?”

“Clint, please, I’m an eccentric billionaire, when did you ever think I _didn’t_ have secret rooms not on any blueprints?”

**_AV~AV~AV~AV_ **

Something had happened.

Natasha slipped into a bathroom, leaving the door open but maneuvering into a cabinet under the sink. Men kept running by, peering in, but upon finding the open door nothing aroused their suspicions and they moved on. She heard a few low voices mumbling of “Barton”, “Stark” and “kill”, but no further threats or sounds of someone being murdered over the intercom. She could only conclude Clint had managed to rescue Tony and escape.

The man wasn’t a SHIELD agent for nothing.

But he had inadvertently added to the danger she, Banner and Thor were facing. With more guys racing around looking for now what they believed were three escapees, the chance of discovery was far greater. It probably wouldn’t take them long to find the dead guards in Thor’s bedroom.

She had to hurry.

She continued to make her way down the hall, ducking into rooms as more men ran by. Always in pairs. Her hands itched for her garrote, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. She distantly wondered how Clint had gotten down there. He probably hadn’t walked in through the front door. There was almost no cover, as you could see whoever was coming down the stairs, or down the lower level hall from within the lab, since it had glass windows.

But it was her only choice.

She moved to one of the back hallways first, freezing at the top of the stairs to listen for noises. After a moment, she pushed herself through the rails, dropping lightly to the floor below, staying in the crouch she was in for a moment, before turning around and moving to a wall behind the stairs. She slid her fingers quickly along the wall’s wood panels, before she found the pressure switch she was looking for, backing into the dark room quickly as her eyes scanned the stairway above her.

She heard a noise from behind her, and instantly drew her gun whirling around to come face to face with a steel arrow tip.

 “Um…could you get your gun out of my crotch?” Clint’s shaky voice said.

She took a moment to slow her breathing and lower her gun, making the other man sigh in relief as he lowered his bow.

“Christ, Natasha!” she heard Tony’s voice from a few feet away.

She couldn’t keep the relief from her voice at seeing her teammates in one piece as she asked them “Are you two okay?” She could see small burn marks on Tony’s neck and arms from where he had been shocked.

“I was until a minute ago,” Clint huffed.

“What’s all that blood?”

“It’s not mine. The others? Banner? Thor?”

She looked back over her shoulder towards the doorway. “Banner’s fine, but he’s only armed with a tazer. He’s guarding Thor in Steve’s room. Thor’s been…implanted with something. Banner thinks it’s a microchip, designed to keep his brain occupied until his body wears out.” She turned to Tony. “There’s an EMP in your lab, right?”

“It’s a small one, but it should do what you need it for. It’s on one of the shelves near the back right. Natahsha,” he grasped her forearm almost painfully. She allowed the personal intrusion. “You have to get Steve. They’ve got him hooked up to some gas, you have to get him out of there.” Tony’s eyes were fierce and bright and determined, and she looked to Clint, who only looked away.

She knew what had happened instantly. Clint could only get to one of them, and had chosen to save Tony. Both men felt he had made the wrong choice.

“I can do it,” she assured them. “But you have to get to Banner and Thor. They can’t hide for long. They think only three of us have escaped, but when they find out it’s five…”

Clint nodded. She held out her hand to him. “Do you have any explosives?” He drew two arrows, putting them into her hand. She looked at the small canisters attached instead of arrow heads.

“I have a third one if you need-”

“Keep it. This is plenty. Get to Banner. I’ll find you with the EMP.” Clint grasped her forearm then.

“Be careful.”

“You too.”

The man in the mask was livid.

Steve had only looked on silently when he saw Clint pull Tony up and through the smoke and out the door. They had both escaped. The ensuing relief was the strongest emotion he had felt since being captured.

When the smoke had died down and most of the henchmen had left looking for the now escaped prisoners, the man had come over, pulling Steve’s lolling head up by the hair. The man holding the tank backed away slowly.

“Do you know what I had to give up to get here?” Steve blinked sluggishly at him. In response, the man dropped his head to the floor. Steve heard more than felt the resulting smack against the polished stone through his dulled senses. “To get the information, the plans…everything about you and the Avengers.”

He stood up and kicked Steve savagely in the stomach. His body curled in naturally on itself. “And still,” Steve got a face full of fist then. He felt the man’s hand connect solidly with his cheek bone. He felt a twinge of pain beyond the fog. “…your _friends_ …” he kicked Steve in the thigh, “…cause me trouble!”

He whirled violently away before moving back over to Steve and leaning down to pick his head up again. “You killed my father, you know. Back in the war.” He moved his over hand to cover Steve’s chin and pressed his thumb hard into Steve’s broken cheekbone. He certainly felt _that._ “Of course, I realize it was a _war_ , and that you killed many people’s fathers. I don’t take it _too_ personally.” He dropped Steve’s head to the floor again before standing and turning away.

“Besides, with you and The Hulk in my grasp, I will be able to utilize my father’s research to create a new army, an unstoppable one. The super soldier serum running through their veins, complimented by the size and strength of the Hulk, without the complete bloodlust.” He turned back to Steve. “Well, maybe a little bloodlust.”

The force from an explosion suddenly shook the room, making monitors topple over and the men stumble.

“Find out what that was!” the masked man shouted. Both his second in command and the last guy that had been safeguarding Steve’s tank left in a hurry, automatic weapons drawn. The man turned angrily back to Steve. “I am really, very tired of your friends’ little games,” he hissed. “But soon they will all be DEAD.”

A gunshot sounded, incredibly close. The masked man cried out in pain, before toppling forward on his face. Natasha stood right behind him, pure hatred painted all over her face.

She hurried over to Steve, ripping the mask off his face. Instantly, he felt the fog begin to clear. She reached around behind him, lifting his wrists up to cut the zip tie off with the edge of the tank nozzle.

“We have to go, right-”

Her sentence was interrupted by another gunshot. Perplexed, she looked at him before looking down to her stomach. Steve frantically followed her gaze as well.

Her grey t-shirt was blossoming into red. She gingerly touched her stomach, looking strangely at her red fingertips.

“No, Natasha, NO!” Steve caught her as she fell sideways, looking around for the source of the danger.

The masked man was conscious, aiming a gun at them from the floor where he lay. “Just so you know who to thrust your hatred upon later…” he sneered. “…I am Zemo.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

Tony’s relief at seeing Natasha had been short lived. He didn’t like sending her back alone, but she was probably the most capable among them for the job. Besides, he and Clint had gotten rid of most of the men for her.

Not that he wasn’t grateful to Clint for saving him. He continued to hide the muscle fatigue the shocks had caused him. His body was screaming at him to lie down. But he had a mission, and he wouldn’t fail at saving his team.

They heard shouts and Clint quickly pulled him by the wrist into a nearby room, backs against the wall as more men ran by. The time for stealth wasn’t _quite_ over, it seemed. Clint glanced at him.

“Can you get outside on your own from here?”

Tony nodded, hating the thought that Clint felt he was responsible for him. He knew stealth tactics wasn’t exactly his field of expertise, but Clint having to save him in the first place, then lead him around safely, and _in his own house_ really irked him. How could he have failed so badly?

“I’m going after Banner and Thor,” Clint whispered. He reached for a belt that wasn’t there, then looked at Tony apologetically. “I don’t...have any weapons for-”

“It’s fine, I can handle it.” Tony growled, angry at himself.

Clint’s jaw clenched, before he looked out into the hall. “Coast is clear,” he whispered before turning back to Tony. “See you on the other side.” He bounded off as Tony made his way down the hall in the opposite direction.

“Let’s hope,” he mumbled. He ducked into a bathroom, surprised to see an already open window. Of course. Banner. He popped his head outside, seeing the bushes about fifteen feet below him. He gingerly pulled himself out the window, and lowered himself from the edge so that he was hanging about ten feet from the ground. “Banner, how the hell did-”

He cut himself off as his fingers slipped and he found himself falling back first into the bushes with a loud rustle and snapping of branches. As he lay there winded, he vowed he’d never make fun of Clint or Natasha’s jobs ever again. This was too hard.

He rolled off the bush, getting to his knees slowly as he looked around. No one was in sight. He hoped the ranks of bad guys were getting thinner, Clint seemed to have killed a lot of them. He moved quietly across the lawn, making his way towards the back of the house.

There was the sound of glass breaking, followed by a gun shot, followed by the dirt exploding at his feet.

“Shit!” he yelped, picking his pace up and sprinting around the side of the house. They knew he was here now. He’d have to hurry.

**_AV~AV~AV~AV_ **

Bruce tried to calm his heartbeat as he heard men running up and down the halls past Steve’s room. He had pulled Thor out of view behind the bed in case they were found out, he might have a few seconds to protect his teammate. He would have preferred to keep his wits about him, but as of now, he could feel the edges of anger and the beast they represented swimming under the surface of his calm, like a crocodile lurking in still waters.

More footsteps, although they were slower. He tensed, feeling the slight tremor in his muscles signaling the change was close. The door knob slowly turned and the door swung inwards.

The man standing there had an assault rifle aimed at his chest. “Dr. Banner,” he sneered. “I guess you’re not so evasive after all. You better come along quietly with me.”

“Or what?” Banner asked.

“Or-” suddenly the man’s head whipped sideways and it took Bruce a moment to notice there was an arrow shaft through it. The man crumbled to the ground.

Bruce stuck his head out the doorway, relieved to see Clint. “Where’s Thor?” He asked.

“In here, give me a moment.” Bruce went back into the room, moving to where Thor was. The Asgardian looked pale and sickly now, and it unsettled Bruce to see how much difference there was between him now and his usual visage. He picked his arm up and was about to sling it over his shoulder when he heard a cry of pain from Clint in the hallway.

Abandoning Thor, he ran to the hallway, seeing Clint doubled over, barely on his feet. A man in full combat gear stood behind him. Bruce stood there for a moment, uncomprehending, before he finally noticed the combat knife hilt sticking out of his teammate’s back.

Finally, he let the rage consume him.

**_AV~AV~AV~AV_ **

 

Natasha weekly clutched at her stomach trying to hold the blood in her body.  The bullet had been a through and through, but she felt herself growing weaker by the second. Steve’s arms gently lowered her to the floor, before the man got up in a rush. She turned her head in time for her to see him kick Zemo in the face,  grabbing his gun before hurrying back over to Natasha.

She cried out as he lifted her up. “Sorry,” he whispered as he began rushing towards the door.

“Wait,” she whispered, trying to grasp at his shirt. He looked down concernedly at her before he kept moving. “Wait,” she tried again, a little louder and determined this time. He stopped as she lifted her arm, pointing to the shelf with the EMP before she dropped her arm. “EMP…for Thor,” she breathed.

 

“Natasha, you-”

“He’ll DIE,” she hissed at him with most of the strength she had left. It came out much lower and weaker than she ever would have guessed, but Steve must have seen the determination in her eyes because the next thing she knew he was turning around.

He held her tightly to his chest as he reached out for the device. “Give it…to me,” she whispered. He did so, and she began to charge it as he raced for the door. As it charged, he took it back from her, and all her remaining energy left out of her. She felt her eyes grow heavy.

“Natasha? Natasha, open your eyes, that’s an order.”

She did so, slowly, but cried out again as she felt Steve take the stairs two at a time. “Your room,” she whispered.

**_AV~AV~AV~AV_ **

 

Clint fell to the ground, gasping, his body convulsing as the man pulled the knife out of his back. He hadn’t heard him coming, so focused he was on protecting his teammates. The man had probably been counting on it, which is why he used a knife as opposed to a gun that he’d have to click the safety off of.

He’d felt the floor underneath him sink minutely and had just enough time to dodge to his left. The knife sunk in next to his shoulder blade as opposed to his spine.

Clint wheezed as fire ran down his back, and his lungs strained for air. He had definitely felt the knife knick a rib, but as he tried to suppress the pain before the guy could come back and finish the job, he knew something else was wrong. He tried to suck in air, but he could feel only one lung working, and he was quickly becoming light headed. He knew the guy was coming for him, but he couldn’t do anything.

He could only hope Tony succeeded in calling for help.

He closed his eyes, but opened them again as a roar sounded from a few feet in front of him, and a huge, green mass took over his field of vision. The guy who had tried to kill him cried out as Hulk’s massive fist hit him, and Clint definitely heard the sound of multiple bones break as he flew through a wall.

With a gentleness Clint didn’t realize the Hulk possessed, he moved Clint to the side of the hallway before stomping after the man who had tried to kill him.

**_AV~AV~AV~AV_ **

 

By the time Steve made it to the hallway that had his room in it, he heard the Hulk thumping about in what had been Thor’s room, roaring.  Steve immediately caught sight of Clint on the floor off to one side, barely moving.

“Clint!” Steve’s worry spiked when Clint didn’t reply, but he couldn’t get to him right this second.  Natasha was fading in his arms, and there was still Thor.

He burst into his room, gently laying Natasha on the bed, who groaned lightly. He moved over to Thor, biting his lip when he saw the state the Asgardian was in. He took the EMP, not really sure what to do with it, other than knowing that Thor needed it. Natasha hadn’t been able to give him any more information. He placed it next to his head, making sure it was fully charged.

He pressed the button.

Thor jerked slightly, before groaning, and opened his eyes.

“Steve Rogers,” he whispered. “What is…” Thor tried to sit up, but groaned, sinking back down to the floor. Steve smiled.

“You’re gonna be okay, Thor, but we’re in a code red here. Look after her,” Steve pointed, and Thor seemed to notice Natasha was on the bed next to him. Steve didn’t wait for an answer before he ran out of the room back to where Clint was.

Clint was covered in blood, but when Steve tried to roll him onto his back, he bit back a groan of pain. Steve stopped immediately, finding the blood on his back and then noticing the ripped t-shirt. He pulled the shirt up and saw blood bubbling out of the wound. Bubbles meant air. Air meant a punctured lung.

He glanced at Clint’s face again, noticing his lips had a slightly blue tint. “Hang on, Clint,” he tried to assure him. He could hear the man struggling to breathe.

His team was dying around him.

Steve swallowed, pushing down the fear that threatened to overwhelm him. Now was not the time.  It bothered him he didn’t know where Tony was, but he had to take care of the others first. Luckily for Clint, the actual wound wasn’t bleeding too much. “Clint, I’ll be right back, okay?” He ran back into his room, taking his shirt off and tearing it into strips. Thor hadn’t been able to move in the few minutes he had been in the hallway, so Steve got to work tying the cloth around Natasha’s torso.

“I am sorry,” Thor moaned from the floor.

“It’s okay,” Steve assured him. Natasha moaned quietly, and he tied off the cloth before running back into the hallway with the extra fabric.

He moved back to Clint’s side, pressing the cloth over his wound. Clint groaned and gasped weakly.

Steve heard approaching footsteps coming at a run from ahead of him. He looked up and grimaced, seeing three armed men running towards him. He took in a deep breath and shouted at the top of his lungs,

“HULK!”

The green mass flew out of Thor’s room, barreling past him and into the men. The house shook as all four crashed through the wall and into the yard.

**_AV~AV~AV~AV_ **

 

Tony reached the circuit breaker box on the wall, opening it quickly. Instead of reaching for one of the circuit switches, he pressed a hidden switch on the side, pulling aside the box again, allowing access to a satellite uplink that was connected to an internal, smaller battery.

He switched it on, and a small message appeared that the emergency system had been activated and SHIELD was contacted. A muffled voice came out of the tiny speaker.

“Agent Hill.”

“Hill, we got a Code Red, we’re under attack. Send medical teams and back up, lots of armed backup-“

The ground exploded near his feet again and he scurried backwards. Pain exploded in his shoulder, and he cried out, falling backwards, before frantically pulling himself back to the cover of the wall. Footsteps pounded the ground, and Tony took a deep, shuttering breath. He had succeeded. Help was coming for his team.

A crash sounded, and Tony felt the building shake at his back. He pulled himself around the corner, and saw the Hulk standing on top of a pile of breaks, and some men, including the one who had shot him.

He struggled to his feet. “Hulk!” he called. The Hulk looked at him and roared. Tony would have lied if he said it didn’t make him nervous on at least some level.

One of the men moaned underneath the monster. The hulk silenced him by pounding his head into the ground.

“Hulk! Get this trash off my lawn!”

The Hulk roared again, and complied by throwing all four men into the side of the house.

 

**_AV~AV~AV~AV_ **

Thor still felt physically ill. He was furious with himself that he hadn’t been able to tell the Frost Giant hallucination was a ruse, that he was being played, his body slowly working itself to the brink of exhaustion and him not noticing because he had been too feverish with the thrill of battle.

His muscles trembled, and it was all he could do to pull himself up on the bed next to Natasha, sitting over her and keeping his hands pressed firmly on her stomach. She moaned weakly and moved one leg in protest. But her eyes remained closed.

He saw Steve Rogers in the hallway holding a plastic bag over Clint Barton’s back. Thor didn’t understand why he had come looking for the bag initially in his room, but he had shouted at him that Barton had a collapsed lung and it would keep the air in. Thor looked worriedly at them both as Rogers kept repeating “Hold on, Clint, just hold on.”

But it was painfully clear Steve had no idea what to do next.

Just as he thought it, they heard a voice from down the hall. “Guys!”

“Tony!” Steve called back, relief evident in his voice.

Tony Stark stumbled into view then, falling on his knees next to Barton and Rogers, and holding one hand over his shoulder. Thor could see the blood when Tony turned to glance at him and Natasha, breathing hard.

“Stark, are you alright?” Thor said, cursing himself again at how shaky his own voice sounded.

Stark looked back at him and nodded before turning back to Rogers. “Yeah, yeah. I’ve called SHIELD, they’re on their way, but I didn’t…didn’t know…” He moved the hand that wasn’t covering his bleeding shoulder to Barton’s own, as the archer himself continued to struggle for breath.

“But they’re coming,” Steve said urgently. “Zemo, he’s still…”

Rogers looked at Thor and back to Stark. Thor could read the unspoken question in his eyes. Were he and Stark well enough to take care of their teammates for a short time while Rogers hunted down the man responsible.

“Go,” Thor said. “We will be well. My strength has almost returned to me,” he lied.

Stark looked at him and snorted. “Liar,” he mumbled painfully as he shifted, readjusting the grip on his own shoulder.

“It matters not,” Thor snapped back before looking at Steve. “Help will arrive soon, and there is little else you can do here. Go.”

Steve looked back and forth between his injured teammates before surrendering to the fury in Tony’s eyes. He nodded, got up and ran down the hall back towards Tony’s lab.

**_AV~AV~AV~AV_ **

Steve ran.

Zemo would pay for what he had done.  Tony and SHIELD had taken every precaution to make sure something like this would never happen. And yet it had. It had put everyone’s life at stake.

And he had allowed it to happen.

He launched himself down the stairs, hitting the floor in a crouch before sprinting to Tony’s lab. It was only after he kicked the door in he realized he didn’t have any weapons.

But it didn’t matter. Zemo wasn’t there.

Steve let out a cry of pure rage, punching the nearest table top. It crumpled under the force of the blow, and Steve was left there, standing and breathing heavily.

He couldn’t have gone far. Steve sprinted out of the lab, back up the stairs and into another hall. He saw another door that went was open, leading to the lawn. Steve ran outside, the sounds of rotors instantly assaulting his ears.

At first he thought it was SHIELD, but then he realized it was landing on the lawn and Zemo was stumbling towards it. He automatically reached for the shield on his back, cursing under his breath when he realized it wasn’t there. He put on a burst of speed, as he shouted “ZEMO!”

The masked man turned around just in time to have Steve tackled him to the ground. He got in two punches before bullet fire from the helicopter made him dive for cover behind a garden wall. Zemo laughed viciously as he got up, ducking under the rotors to the helicopter, but Steve barely heard him. He frantically looked around for quinjets from SHIELD, but they still weren’t there. As the helicopter flew away, Steve fell to his knees, the fight drained from him.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Each breath Clint took was like swallowing and handful of jacks directly into his chest. But at least he could breathe.

One of Tony’s hands was resting lightly on his shoulder, encouraging him to breath. He found it reassuring. Tony’s other hand was still clutching his own shoulder, and Clint could see blood trickling through his fingers. The worry and fatigue in Tony’s eyes frustrated Clint. He wanted to tell him he was going to be fine, that even though it hurt like hell he was insulted Tony thought this could bring him down.

He moved his hand towards Tony’s knee. He hated how hard it was and a noise of frustration and pain escaped him. Tony moved his hand to grab Clint’s own. “Clint, stop it! Just…don’t move, okay?” Clint wheezed, shutting his eyes in pain. “God, Clint…you did good, okay? Just hang on. You did way better than me, buddy. Just hang on…”

Clint began to drift off, just as he heard the multitude of footsteps and the booming voice of Nick Fury himself punctuated by Tony shouting his name.

AV~AV~AV~AV

Thor was just getting to his feet, his limbs trembling, when Fury barreled to a stop outside the door, gun drawn. He took one look at Natasha on the bed, and his eye widened. “I need another med team in here, RIGHT NOW!” His gaze briefly shifted to Thor. “Where’s Rogers?”

“He went after the man responsible,” Thor grunted, moving to lean heavily on the wall. He inwardly cursed. He shouldn’t have been brought down by mortals this easily.

“Are you alright?” Fury asked as a medical team burst past him into the room, crowding around Natasha. 

“I am fine,” Thor snapped irritably. He was tired of being treated like he was a frail tree limb, ready to break at any moment. Fury nodded, moving on as a gurney was pushed past him into the room. Thor watched with concern as the medics lifted the now unconscious Natasha on, placing a mask over her nose and mouth. One came up to him, looking uncertain. 

“Sir, do you need-”

“I need nothing, take care of the others,” he snapped again, stumbling past her.

Clint was also being wheeled away on a gurney, and another medic was trying to attend to an indignant Tony Stark. “Sir, I assure you, Agent Barton will be taken care of. We need to look at your shoulder.” The medic’s tone was calm and assertive, and now that the immediate danger had passed, Thor couldn’t help but be somewhat amused by Tony Stark’s actions coinciding with his own. Thor moved over to Tony and before the other man knew what was happening, Thor had jammed a thumb into his shoulder.

“JESUS THOR!” Tony cried, starting to sink to the ground before the medic caught him. Tony shot a glare at his teammate.

“You will seek medical attention immediately, Stark. I think that settles it.” Tony gasped, getting to his feet as the medic led him off down the hall, following Barton and Natasha. 

Thor moved to the hole in the wall which the Hulk had busted through with three men, looking out of it. Bruce was standing over their bodies, SHIELD agents beginning to examine both him and the intruders. Thor saw him rip his arm away from the grasp of one of the medics. Bruce was always well after battle. Physically, at least. 

Bruce must have felt his gaze on him, because a moment later he looked up and caught sight of the Asgardian. 

“The others…are they…”

“They are being attended to. Come. We must find Steve Rogers.”

AV~AV~AV~AV

Steve got up slowly. He had let too many people get away who hurt or killed the people he cared about. He didn’t know if he could face his team and tell them he had let the man who had almost killed them all get away.

The decision was out of his hands though, as Nick Fury came speeding towards him on the lawn, flanked my armed SHIELD agents. 

“Don’t bother, he’s gone,” Steve mumbled dejectedly.

Fury leveled an eye at him. “Who was it?”

“Zemo.”

Fury snapped at an officer, who put a phone in his hand. He lifted it to his ear. “Zemo. Yes. Interpol? Fine, find him, have all the info on my desk in ten minutes.” He gave the phone back to the officer, regarding Steve carefully. The super solider still hadn’t lifted his head. “Look at me, Captain.”

Steve raised his head, self-reproach painted across his face.

“Attend to your team, soldier.”

Steve nodded, jogging back towards the house. Thor and Bruce were just coming out and he paused. They gave him expectant looks, expecting to hear he had brought down the man who did this, expecting to hear it was all okay, justice had been delivered. He looked them both straight in the eyes.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t…” he trailed off, looking down again. 

He felt a heavy hand clasp him on the shoulder, and looked up surprised to see it was Thor’s.

“It was not our day. But we live to fight another.”

Steve gave a small, appreciative smile.

AV~AV~AV~AV

Two days later found Clint and Natasha still in the intensive care unit of the helicarrier. Tony had his arm put in a sling and was back in the lab as soon as he could be, working on a new security system. Clint would distract him by sending pictures of scantily-clad women to his email account. The emails mysteriously stopped when the latest batch had a picture from Natasha’s modeling days.

Tony had called Hill, who was not amused, to make sure Clint was still alive.

Steve came into his lab, and Tony flipped around the monitor, exposing the pictures. “You know, for a guy with a torn lung he certainly seems to be awake a lot.”

Steve turned a deep shade of crimson, and gave a small sputter when Tony enlarged the picture of Natasha. “Tony, she’s a teammate!”

“Hmm, you’re right. Jarvis, enable paintbrush.” Tony flipped the screen around, and moved his finger through the air to paint a black bar over her eyes and little devil horns. He sat back, admiring his work. “Actually, that just makes her…”

Steve, not knowing how to make the display disappear, simply stood between it and Tony. “Seriously. That’s enough.” Tony sighed and waved it away. 

“Clint started it.”

“Then I’ll talk to him too. Unless Natasha already did.” Steve allowed himself a small smirk. 

“Not completely, but I did have to verify he was still alive with Hill.”

“Oh good.”

Tony shifted his focus to observe Steve. The man was still out of sorts since the attack. They all were, really. They all blamed themselves for something. Tony blamed himself the security system someone was able to bypass. Natasha for being snuck up on. Thor for giving into illusions so easily. Clint for not doing enough. Bruce for…not smashing things earlier, he supposed.

But no one was taking it as hard as Cap. Not only did he feel personally responsible for every member, but also the weight of being uninjured and letting the man responsible escape…well, Tony hadn’t seen him this moody in a long time.

“How are you doing?” he asked, casually. 

Steve glanced at him, before pretending to study something on a distant wall. “I’ll be fine,” he mumbled.

Tony sighed. “Look, we’re all stubborn as shit around here, but this isn’t your fault. It was an unexpected attack. This is gonna happen. A lot. Since we formed, we’ve had targets painted on our chests. Well, me longer actually, since I got off my ass before you all did.” Steve gave him a dubious smirk. “Right, you were frozen, not your fault. But the point is, we gotta roll with the punches. And we did. Some better than others, I’ll admit,” Tony winced as he gave his shoulder an experimental roll. “But we can’t let the losses bog us down. We have the next mission.”

Steve gave Tony a somewhat impressed look.

“What?”

“You know, that means a lot, coming from you.”

Tony snorted, wheeling around in his chair to face the monitors again. “Hey, occasionally I have a good speech. I am a genius, you know.”

Steve rolled his eyes as he got up to head for the doors. “So you tell me. Every fifteen minutes.”

“It’s important that you know!”

Steve smiled. He had the next mission to focus on. 

And his team would be with him.


End file.
